


"Try harder next time."

by TwoCatsTailoring



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Chess, Fictober 2018, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2021-01-24 00:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring
Summary: Dorian and Cullen and a friendly game of chess.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus & Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 4
Collections: Short Things from TwoCatsTailoring





	"Try harder next time."

It is like this three afternoons a week, at least. Some weeks, when most everyone is just sitting around waiting - for messages to be delivered, for people to arrive, for the guards to come so they can leave, waiting, waiting, waiting - it happens every day. Those weeks, it can be any time, schedules of waiting vary more than schedules of doing things. Why that happened wasn’t Cullen’s job to understand.

But three afternoons a week, so long as they were both in Skyhold, Cullen and Dorian had a game of chess. Calling it a game was a misnomer, naturally. Both of them were extremely competitive and everyone who knew them was aware of it. Cullen was reasonably sure that there was a betting pool somewhere and the odds were likely always in Cullen’s favor.

Not that he always made it easy to beat him; but he was learning Dorian’s habits and Cullen suspected that the mage was learning his as well. Dorian focused harder and did worse when he was bored. Cullen was always sure of a challenging game when Dorian seemed distracted or ambivalent. He might not win, but Dorian could give him a chase worst of any Ferelden hunt.

It was baffling to Cullen, all the various displays of emotion Dorian had - never very well controlled, but neither too outlandish. It was a shock at first, but now Cullen was thankful for it. At least with Dorian running off at the mouth, you always knew where you stood with him.

And from where Cullen stood - or sat, if he was being exact - he was quietly confident that he was going to win yet another match today. The wind was blowing colder today but with a brazier lit nearby and the walls blocking the worst of the chill, the garden wasn’t the worst place in the castle to be. Yes, Cullen was quite pleased that someone, somewhere in Skyhold was likely to win some coin off his success and he hoped that the Marker would smile upon whoever it was.

But it seemed that if the Maker heard this prayer that he chose to not smile upon anyone aligned with Cullen. From a quarter that he hadn’t even expected, Dorian shifted a Bishop and,

“Checkmate.”

All he could do was stare. How had he missed that? How had he not noticed, not seen that the piece was going to be a problem? Well, he knew how he missed it but still! Dorian had touched the bishop one time, to move it into the space it had just come out of, then hadn’t touched it again until his opening was clear. Of course.

“Well played,” Cullen congratulated him with resignation and an offered hand.

Dorian took it with a charming grin that set maids giggling and made one elderly Gray Warden blush the color of the Inquisition’s uniforms. “You really should try harder, next time. Winning just cost me 100 crowns!”

Cullen blinked, then laughed. “You bet against yourself?”

“Of course!” Dorian admitted, resetting the board. “I may be from Tevinter but I am not a complete fool.”


End file.
